


The Prince and the Stoat

by Kalee60



Series: Merthur Quik Fics [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, First Kiss, Huddling For Warmth, Idiots in Love, M/M, One Shot, POV Merlin (Merlin), Sexual Content, Short & Sweet, Snark, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24786025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60
Summary: When Arthur tells Merlin he looks like a startled stoat while lost in the forest, well that just kicks off his innate need to snark back with his own impressive insult. But somehow his words just might have hit a small nerve - and when the cold threatens to freeze them - well, what’s a little cuddling between Prince and Servant to stay alive.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merthur Quik Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792729
Comments: 23
Kudos: 310





	The Prince and the Stoat

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't written Merthur in an age and I was inspired by a lovely mutual on Tumblr who took my tag rambling and made this fall out of my head... click [ here](https://larkboyd.tumblr.com/post/621219962087931904/aahhhhh-your-tags-got-me-excited-kalee60) to see the infamous post!
> 
> I have created a Merthur quik fic series tag as well - I have no idea what will go in it, how often I'll post, but I have many unfinished projects on these two hapless idiots that might see the light of day here in between my other writing!
> 
> Enjoy this quick tease (also note, this is the first time I have ever written them in canon.. huh...)

“You look like a startled Stoat,” Arthur called out to Merlin, and Merlin couldn’t help the way his shoulders stiffened. For God’s sake he was trying his damndest to keep them alive - all while not letting a slip of magic out, and quite honestly Arthur was getting on his last nerve.

“Yeah, well at least I don’t look like a bone-idle toad,” Merlin snarked, enjoying the way Arthur straightened and seemed to startle, like Merlin was being inordinately rude, which he wasn’t - he always spoke to Arthur in that way. 

“You’re saying I look like a toad?” Arthur finally drawled like he couldn’t comprehend the thought, that it was an impossibility to look thus. Merlin was not going to pander to him and confirm that he actually _was_ the most striking man he’d ever seen, and his chiselled features made Merlin’s insides quiver. He was a prat, a pillock and the most infuriating man, _no_ , it was worse - Prince - in the known world. And Merlin wanted him desperately. Much to his disgust.

It made him feel off-balance, so with as much snideness in his tone that he could muster, he responded, “yeah, and maybe one day you’ll magically transform into a handsome prince.” 

Throwing his ruck-sack onto his back he tried and failed to notice the way Arthur touched his face as if to check for warts, then ran a hand through his hair, before gazing down at his body, which left Merlin able to look his fill without being caught. Damn it, he had to curb this - _want,_ deep inside.

“Since magic’s outlawed that’ll probably never happen,” Merlin continued, trying to dampen his desires, it was almost impossible though. And he felt his attraction to Arthur was almost as hard to hide as his magic. “Come on let’s go.”

Arthur followed mulishly behind him. Looking after a Prince was more than a full-time job.

That evening, Merlin tried unsuccessfully to light a fire, as Arthur watched him too closely to use magic. It was getting cold and he was hungry and he needed to heat the stew else Arthur's royal pain in the behind would complain for hours.

“What’s taking so long?” Arthur whined, “usually it takes you two seconds.”

Merlin wanted to snap that things would go quicker if Arthur deigned himself low enough to help sort out their camp (allowing him a swift glimpse of gold to infuse his eyes and get the _damn_ fire started), instead he ignored the prat.

“It’s cold,” Arthur pressed and Merlin looked up archly, his brow raised and he couldn’t help the utter look of annoyance that crossed his face. Arthur saw, if his small smirk was any indication. The clod-pole knew exactly what buttons he was pressing.

“Go get some more kindling,” Merlin demanded, and when a twig flew past his ear he looked up incredulously. “Did you just throw a stick at me?”

“I’m helping with kindling,” was the response, and Merlin couldn’t help the sharp bark of laughter, which turned into something a little more. Then Arthur joined in, and everything was just absolutely ridiculous. He also wished Arthur’s laugh didn’t make his stomach feel all jittery. The low cadence, deep and full of filthy promises, but not ever aimed at him. Never him.

Merlin was a servant, not a potential bed partner. More pity to Arthur, as Merlin had many, _many_ interesting skills.

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur actually stood up and began to gather wood, which in turn meant he could use magic to light the fire, and soon a warmth was flowing against the front of his body as he nurtured the small lick of flames into a steady blaze.

“There you go, that wasn’t hard. You could have managed that ten minutes ago, I can’t feel my fingers,” Arthur came up next to Merlin, very closely, and rubbed his hands together and held them out to the fire.

“You’re lucky you can still feel your arse, considering it’s the largest part of you,” Merlin said under his breath.

“What was that?” Arthur asked, not sounding at all very forgiving, and Merlin knew he’d pushed a little too far and gave a beaming smile instead and said he’d put the stew on, which interestingly made Arthur’s gaze soften and his eyes drop to Merlin’s mouth. And although it wasn’t intended to be read in any way other than general, it still sent a zing up Merlin’s spine.

Licking his lips he let out a small cough which startled Arthur into a scowl and a ‘hurry up, I’m starving’. Of course he was.

Dinner wasn’t a fancy affair and they both ate in silence, and as the light disappeared completely from their small part of the forest, sheltered by a rock face, Merlin knew it was going to be too cold overnight for him not to use magic in some way to keep them warm so as not to end up dead from the chills. But he couldn’t. It would be too reckless and an ongoing spell would tax him too much, and honestly he’d never performed such magic anyway. He looked between their two cloaks and swallowed all of his pride. He had to keep the future King safe at all costs. Even the cost to his dignity.

“I think we’re going to have to stay close tonight,” he tried at first.

Arthur’s flat look did not instil confidence, “excuse me?”

“Err, it’s too cold tonight, you can tell by the rings around the moon that the fire won’t give off enough warmth, and since we don’t have proper blankets, we’re going to have to…” Merlin trailed off at the look on Arthur’s face, one he couldn’t really decipher through the flickering flames, “... cuddle.”

“ _Mer_ lin, are you suggesting the future King of Camelot, _cuddle_ for warmth with his servant?”

What. A. Pillock.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, a dead Prince won’t become King. Even if he’s more frozen than you are now.”

Arthur blinked once, then scowled in such a familiar way it was almost endearing, then finally, much to Merlin’s utter shock, he created a space before him. Not behind. It seemed Arthur was going to allow Merlin to curl up in front of him, closest to the fire. And that was - unexpected.

Although when Merlin made his way over, he instead, lay down _behind_ Arthur as close as he dared. At least behind him if he needed to use magic, he could keep it hidden, to a degree.

They laid awkwardly for about half an hour, when Merlin began to shiver, he couldn’t help it and soon he was wracked with them, trying not to jostle the surly prat before him. Sure he could use a spell to warm himself, but he just wasn’t confident in such close quarters, he’d wait until Arthur fell asleep but of course the dollop-head refused to do anything but stay on guard.

“For the love of Camelot,” Arthur finally huffed and his arm reached out behind him, groping at poor Merlin until completely baffled, his arm was yanked back across and _over_ Arthur. What in hell was he doing? "Better?”

And surprisingly, yes it was, but did he admit that? Instead he took it for what it was, shared body warmth and snuggled in closer, feeling the sharp inhale from Arthur as his hips unintentionally ground into his backside. He swallowed his apology, not wanting to draw attention to it. Trouble was, _all_ of Merlin’s attention was honed in on every breath, every noise, the way the firelight played over Arthur’s golden hair, making it appear ethereal, and he needed to rein in his galloping thoughts. Arthur was _not_ someone he could lust after. Not someone he could have.

“Do you really think that of me?” Arthur said quietly and Merlin craned his neck to try and hear the soft words.

“Think what?”

“That I look like a toad,” was the response, and Merlin bit his lip to stop the laughter bubbling up.

Lord, Arthur was the vainest and most obtuse man in a thousand forests.

“Honestly?” he asked with only a hint of mirth in his voice.

The nod was so unlike Arthur, usually he was full of gust and bluster, but for some reason Merlin decided that the truth wouldn’t hurt. Well part of it.

“No, I don’t think you look like a toad,” he felt Arthur relax a little against him, “but you _do_ look like a prat, not even in training anymore. I’m pleased to confirm you have entered the esteemed ranks of complete and utter fully fledged royal prat.”

“Oh…”

“You sound disappointed? I can still say you look like a toad. Magic, as discussed, won’t help you. But a kiss might...” And what the actual hell just slipped out of his mouth? He was going to blame his absolute lack of brain cells on the fact he had Arthur basically wrapped up in his arms, and the smell and very aura of the larger-than-life man had enraptured his senses until he didn’t even know what he was saying.

It didn’t mean he was lying though.

Arthur went still, very still and Merlin braced himself for a walloping - which didn’t come.

“That could…” Arthur stopped and coughed, his voice thick with something and Merlin held his breath, what was happening between them like an out of body experience. “...could be amenable.”

“Amenable,” Merlin couldn’t help chuckle.

“I mean, I don’t want to be a toad for the rest of my life, who does?”

“No, no of course you don’t.” Merlin barely whispered as Arthur tilted his head back, and suddenly Merlin had pouty lips made for kissing (among other activities he tried not to image too often) within his reach. The small uncertainty in Arthur’s eyes almost hidden by the darkness and Merlin had to school his own features, knowing Arthur could quite simply see his expression clearly in the firelight.

He didn’t wait for a second invitation, not sure if this was his only opportunity to kiss Arthur, other than in his fantasies, he wasn’t about to turn it down, and as he lowered his head, he heard the small inhale between Arthur’s lips, and then they were kissing.

It was everything and unlike anything Merlin had expected. Arthur’s lips were soft, so unbelievably plush under his own cold mouth and he couldn’t help dive deeper, taste further, take everything on offer. And just when Merlin thought his luck had run out, Arthur sighed into his mouth and opened himself more, pressed his body firmer against Merlin and his hand tangled up in Merlin’s hair and, _god,_ it was good. It was perfect, actually.

Merlin couldn’t say how long they lay there, kissing, learning each other’s mouths, seeking to shock and make the other gasp, as when Merlin discovered that Arthur enjoyed having his hair pulled, delighting him to no end.

But it was when a hardness pressed insistently against Merlin’s leg, he realised they’d gone from a fairly innocent teasing to something much more.

“Arthur?” Merlin questioned, diving back in for another kiss, devastating the blonde, if his hazy wild eyes were any indication. “What do you want?”

Arthur didn’t answer for the longest moment, and Merlin was beginning to think he wouldn’t.

“What any good serv… friend would give, nothing more, nothing less.”

Merlin mulled on the words for only a second, making up his mind in less than that.

He rolled Arthur back so he was facing the fire again, Merlin pushing right up against his back, his own hardness tight against Arthur, and although he wanted friction, he had a different plan. The small huff of air, almost as if Arthur were trying to hurry him up, so very familiar and Merlin pressed himself tighter against him, enjoying the hitch of Arthur’s breath.

It was too cold to undress and they had been limited with bathing except the dip in the river earlier that morning, so Merlin had one or two options left to him. He decided quickly what he wanted.

He spared a kiss against the back of Arthur’s neck, and snaked his hand down into the soft folds of Arthur’s pants, grasping his dick firmly, and Arthur bucked against him roughly, and for a moment, Merlin thought he’d overstepped. 

But then the way Arthur went boneless and whispered ‘please’ into the night urged Merlin on with his movements.

Arthur was large in his hand, and so very hard, and as he stroked up firmly, his mouth watered, hoping at some stage he’d be able to wrap his lips around the girth, wanting it desperately. Arthur shook in his arms, so Merlin repeated the movement, up and down - slowly, glacially.

“ _Mer_ lin…”Arthur tried to sass.

“Hmmm,” he replied cheekily, knowing exactly what was going through his mind.

“Move.”

“Demanding, aren’t you?”

Arthur husked in an uneven suck of air as Merlin’s fingers danced across the tip of his dick, finding wetness, enough to spread down his shaft to ease his movements.

“I’m your… oh, god that… bloody hell…” Arthur arched back as Merlin bagan to lazily step his fingers up then down. “I’m your crown prince and I demand you… you know.”

Merlin smirked against his shoulder, not able to stop the small press of his lips on Arthur’s ear, “I’m not sure I know at all, Arthur.”

Maybe it was Merlin saying his name out loud, making it more real, but Arthur moved his head to look back over at Merlin, pressing himself forward as if searching for - _oh…_ Merlin kissed him hard, tongue pushing in and Arthur moaned around him, the vibration of it hitting him square in the gut.

Arthur was stunning.

Merlin began to stroke him hard, Arthur’s lips loosening over his until they were only sharing air, the punched out gasps leaving Arthur’s throat had Merlin puffing out sharp breaths, whispering words of encouragement that Arthur was gorgeous, that he could let go, let Merlin take care of him. He didn’t relent, his pace becoming brutal, with one goal in mind, to get his Prince off. To make him fall apart from only his hand.

“Let go for me,” Merlin rasped, lips pressed on Arthur’s.

It was all he needed, Arthur’s lips clung to his suddenly as he moaned deeply and began to release in Merlin’s hand, the stickiness and warmth pleasing Merlin to his toes. He did that, he made Arthur feel like that. Made him lose control. 

It was a heady and addictive feeling.

The kisses turned soft, Arthur still breathing heavily, and Merlin removed his hand, looking down at his soiled fingers and Arthur gave him a look.

“Don’t you dare wipe that on me.”

Merlin smirked, it was not his intent.

One finger disappeared into his mouth and Arthur made a strangled noise as Merlin sucked his second finger clean. Arthur tasted like nothing on earth, and Merlin wanted more. But was it his lot in life to be able to taste Arthur Pendragon from the source?

“You’re going to kill me, Merlin.” Arthur growled before pinning him to the ground shockingly easy. “Wait until I get you back to the palace and into a bed, you’ll not survive the night, especially after a bath - you smell like a boar.”

Merlin laughed, “I smell like you - so are you a toad or a boar?”

Arthur’s hand on his dick stopped the flow of teasing words.

If Merlin and Arthur were inseparable after their two night jaunt stuck in the woods, and if the other Knights happened to see Arthur’s hand slip into the breeches of his most loyal servant on the odd occasion. Well, it was just as easy to look the other way.

After all - it was their future king and consort they were in the company of.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading - I hope you liked these idiots being idiots! :)


End file.
